He'll Always Be My One in Ten
by gabby227
Summary: After being used once again, can Stiles show Derek that he really means something to someone? Or will Derek go on thinking that he's nothing but a pawn in everyone else's games?


**A/N: I've been going through a bit of a depression, and when I go through these, I tend to write. It helps. I want to thank Emma so much for beta-ing this piece for me, and I also blame her for this, because she's the reason that I am obsessed with this pairing right now. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me and suffer through my jumbled nonsense of writing, making it so much more readable. I really appreciate it, sweetie!**

 **As usual, comments & con/crit are welcome and greatly appreciated.**

Stiles was surprised to see Derek when he opened his door that night. It wasn't uncommon for Derek to show up at Stiles' place; no, they had grown up together, with his mom being one of Talia Hale's closest friends, but lately, Derek had been spending an inordinate amount of time with Jackson Whittemore. While Jackson could be quite the asshole, it seemed like he genuinely cared for Derek, and when Derek told Stiles he was dating Jackson, Stiles wasn't surprised at all.

But things were different right now. Because Stiles had learned how to read Derek, how to read his body language, and everything Stiles was seeing was far from fine. Stiles could see the way that Derek's shoulders were hunched, like they did whenever he was disappointed, and he noted the redness in Derek's eyes. Regular people didn't know how much of a softie Derek actually was, but he'd been Stiles' best friend for a long time, alright? He had learned a long time ago to look at what Derek _didn't_ say, because he spend most of his time trying to ignore what he was feeling – especially after the tragedy of his family's deaths when he was a teenager. Derek hid it all inside, and the only way for Stiles to make him feel better was for him to observe and figure things out for himself.

And it wasn't a real secret that Stiles had been pining for the guy for a while. Yes, it was true that Derek had been Stiles' best friend for a long fucking time, but ever since Stiles turned thirteen and realized that he found guys just as attractive as girls, and the very thing that made him come to that realization was standing in his doorway right now, his feelings for Derek had changed. But he always saw Derek as a guy who wouldn't see him romantically in a million years, and Stiles didn't want to jeopardize their friendship. He could live not being more with Derek, as long as they were still friends. Stiles could be the best goddamned friend that Derek could ever ask for.

As they both stood there, it was maybe 10 pm, Derek watching Stiles watching Derek, a silence came over the two of them. It made Stiles nervous – it wasn't a comfortable kind of silence. But Stiles saw how upset Derek was, so he stepped aside and motioned for Derek to step inside the apartment.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, finally finding his voice. He led Derek into the kitchen and put some water in the tea kettle, setting it on the stove. When he was a kid, whenever had a bad day, his mom had always made him hot cocoa, and he just happened to have some of her recipe made up in his cupboard. "I mean, did something happen?"

Derek took a deep breath, but didn't look Stiles in the eye. He did that whenever he was hurting – and it was all Peter's fault. For some idiotic reason, Peter had drilled into Derek's head that kind of stuff made you look weak – and he did _not_ agree with any kind of weakness. That's one of the reasons that Derek kept everything bottled up inside, and Stiles hated the man for that very reason. But Stiles sat down at the table, across from Derek, and then said, "Dude, what's going on? You can look at me, by the way. I'm not gonna run off to your psychotic uncle and tell him that you dared to show some kind of emotion."

Derek took another deep breath before saying, "Jackson…he, uh…well, he broke things off."

Stiles nodded, waiting patiently to see if Derek would say more. Sometimes you had to give Derek time to get everything out. A couple of beats passed before Derek cleared his throat and said, "He was still hung up on Lydia. He admitted to me tonight that he'd been seeing her a couple of weeks before breaking things off with me." A single tear slid down Derek's cheek. "I loved him, Stiles. Maybe I still do."

Right away, Stiles was plotting Jackson Whittemore's death – or, at least, slipping some wolfsbane into the douchebag's shampoo. Scott lived with the guy – it could be arranged.

"Would you please look at me?" Stiles asked softly, and Derek raised his head to look into Stiles' eyes. Stiles had always loved his eyes – they were a combination of green and brown and gold, and they were absolutely gorgeous. Stiles could get lost in those eyes.

"You're too good for him, dude," Stiles said, hearing the whistling of the tea kettle, and stood up to take it off the burner. "I know you really loved him, and I'll support you no matter what, you know that, but you know how I feel about Jackson."

"The whole campus knows how you feel about Jackson, Stiles," Derek said. It _was_ true; everyone knew how Stiles Stilinski felt about Jackson Whittemore.

Stiles fixed the hot cocoa and put a mug down in front of Derek. "Here," he said. "Drink this. It'll make you feel better. It's my mom's recipe."

Derek smiled, but Stiles could tell it was forced.

"Stiles," Derek said after taking a drink, "Is it me? Am I not good enough? I mean, first it was…Paige, and then it was Kate who – well, you remember, and now…" his voice trailed off with a choked sob. "The first person I open myself up to after the whole Kate thing, and he doesn't want me." Derek looked up at Stiles, tears in his eyes. "Why am I never good enough?"

"You _are_ good enough, Der," Stiles said softly. "It's just that the people you have been dating are douchebags and don't notice anything but themselves."

Derek was silent as he took a drink of his cocoa. After swallowing the hot liquid, Derek sighed, looking at Stiles. "You're my best friend. You have to say that."

"No, I really don't," Stiles said, taking a swig of his own hot cocoa. "I don't have to say anything like that. But I love you, dude. You're my best friend, my bro."

Stiles sighed, still continuing to silently plot Jackson Whittemore's death, making sure that it was going to be slow and painful. He took another swig of his hot cocoa, swallowing it before saying, "Someday, Der, you're gonna find the right person. They're gonna love you with everything they have, and you will be their world. The world has a lot of assholes, it's true, but there's someone out there for you."

"Do you really believe that?" Derek asked softly, but Stiles knew the look that was on his face. It was the look where Derek was afraid to be hopeful, because he didn't want to get his heart broken one more time.

"I do," Stiles said. "I know it's going to happen, okay? You've just gotta give it time."

-x-

Stiles had to avoid going over to the frat house where Jackson lived like the plague – and he _really_ wanted to go over there and confront the asshole. But he was more worried about Derek, and after class the next day, he drove over to the house that Derek shared with Laura, Cora and Malia.

The only reason they lived together was because they were family, and after the fire that had wiped out every one of the Hales except for Derek, Peter, Cora, Laura and Malia, Derek just didn't trust people anymore. The only reason he had trusted Jackson the way he did was because Jackson was pack, being one of Peter's first betas after he got the alpha power. They had been through a lot together, and Derek would have never guessed that Jackson would hurt him like he did.

When Stiles burst into the Hales' house, Malia was sitting on the couch, cuddled up next to Kira, Netflix playing on the TV. They looked sickeningly adorable together, but Stiles needed to see Derek. So he went over to them, knowing that Malia had heard him come in – the benefits of super hearing, after all – and he stood next to Kira beside the couch.

"What do you want, Stilinski?" Malia practically snapped. "We're trying to watch a movie here."

"Oh come on, Mia, it's only _The Princess Bride_ ," Kira piped up. "you've seen it a thousand times, and we can always watch it later."

"I don't care," Malia said. "What do you want?"

"The two of you are sickeningly adorable," Stiles said, "but I need to see Derek. Is he here?"

"He hasn't left the house all day," Malia said. "He's in his bedroom, but be warned. His royal broodiness is in a serious mood today. I don't know what the hell crawled up his ass and died, but you're better off just steering clear for a while."

Obviously Derek hadn't told his cousin what had happened the night before. And Stiles knew better than to spill the beans – he knew that Derek wouldn't want Stiles to tell everyone his business. So instead, Stiles said, "I've got experience dealing with Derek in a mood. I just need to talk to him."

"Good luck," Kira laughed. "You're going to need it."

Stiles went down the hallway, to Derek's bedroom, and knocked softly on the door. He also heard the "Go away," that came from inside, but Stiles had decided to ignore it, and went inside the room anyway.

He hated the sight before him. Derek had always been a very composed, put together kind of guy, but he was lying in his bed, wrapped in a comforter cocoon, his head barely sticking out the top. It was right then that Stiles cursed everything that Jackson ever was.

Derek was the strongest person that Stiles himself had ever known. And he didn't mean physically, even though Derek was pretty fucking strong there, too. No, he was talking about emotional strength. After the fire had wiped out almost every person in his family, Derek had found a way to keep on living. He had found a way to move on, to try to honor his family, even though he carried around an enormous amount of guilt because of everything that had happened up to that point. Derek had given Kate all the information she needed to trap his family inside and burn their house to the ground.

Even with that, though, Derek found a way to keep on living. Most people had no idea how much Derek actually suffered because he wasn't the type to broadcast it. Derek was the type of guy who suffered in silence and did what was best for everybody. He was the self-sacrificing type if Stiles had ever seen it. Unless Derek actually told you that he was hurting, you never would have suspected it.

And in came Jackson fucking Whittemore, who had not only broke Derek's heart _again_ , but he reduced the strongest person Stiles had ever known to nothing. And it half broke Stiles' heart and half made him pissed off beyond any other rage Stiles had ever felt before.

"Hey you," Stiles said to Derek as he sat down on his bed beside him. Derek was silent.

This wasn't the comfortable silence that Stiles had come to love between Derek and himself. It was an awkward, the-elephant-in-the-room-is-kinda-huge kind of silence, and Stiles hated it. So he patted Derek's leg over the blanket he was cocooned in, and started talking.

"I want you to know, Derek, that none of this is your fault," he said, rubbing Derek's leg soothingly. "You didn't do anything to deserve this."

Derek poked his head out of his cocoon just a little bit more. "You can't know that," he said. _Well_ , Stiles thought, _at least he's talking_.

"But I do," Stiles said. "You don't deserve any of this. With Paige, you did what you had to do to stop her hurting. You know that rejection from the bite is a long and painful process, and you did what you did to ease her pain. And what Kate did to your family was _not_ your fault, and this shit with Jackson isn't your fault, either. You don't deserve any of it. You're a good guy, Derek, whether you believe me or not, and I only want what's best for you."

When Derek uncovered his head the rest of the way to look at Stiles, Stiles noticed that his eyes were red and glossy, like he'd been crying. Of course Derek would never admit that he had been – he was ashamed to show any kind of weakness at all – but Stiles could tell that he had been, and he didn't need to be a werewolf to know it. Stiles licked his lips nervously before saying, "You deserve so much better, Der. What happened wasn't your fault, okay? And I know it's probably difficult for you to believe, but I want what's best for you."

"You're my best friends, Stiles," Derek said. "Thanks…thanks for always being there for me. I don't deserve you."

Stiles smiled and then said, "Move over, dude. You need snuggles."

As Derek did as he asked, Stiles thought there was nothing better than this right now. Right here, where it was just Stiles and Derek and nothing else in the entire world existed.

-x-

"Whittemore!" Stiles yelled Jackson's name as he pounded on the front door of the frat house. He was one hundred and twenty percent done, okay? It had been three days, and while he'd been spending more and more time with Derek, Jackson had been playing up his asshole qualities and saying shit about Derek. And Stiles was done with his shit.

"What do you want, Stilinski?" Jackson asked as he stepped outside onto the front step. With it being March, it wasn't exactly cold anymore, but it was pretty dreary Stiles knew that Jackson didn't have to worry about getting sick – he _was_ a werewolf, after all – but he stepped outside in a pair of teal basketball shorts.

"What the fuck is your problem, dude?" Stiles asked, trying to ignore the fact that there were a bunch of guys on Jackson's heels, probably wondering the hell his problem was. Stiles didn't care about the on-lookers right now, though.

"Why are you saying shit about Derek?" Stiles asked. "I know we're not popular like you, and we're okay with that, but the dude doesn't deserve it. He's gone through too much shit in his life."

"You know he practically put the matches in Kate's hands, right?" Jackson asked, smirking a little, and Stiles knew that Jackson was saying this to Stiles' face to get a rise out of him. "If she hadn't known how to get past their security system, or what time they did what, or even had their schedules memorized, the fire would have never happened. It's all his fault his family's dead."

Stiles tried to maintain his cool – it wouldn't be a good thing to lose his temper right now. So, instead, he took a few breaths to calm himself down and then said, "So, why'd you date him, dude? If Derek is as bad as you say he is, why even take a chance?"

" I wasn't taking a chance," Jackson said. He was smirking, like he knew _exactly_ how badly he was getting to Stiles. "I was going to end it eventually anyway, because I don't even like him. I just wanted to know what it was like to be with a guy."

That was it. With that one comment, Stiles saw red, and he couldn't do anything to hold himself back. He lunged at Jackson, throwing punch after punch, and it wasn't until about a minute later when he felt someone pulling him back that he managed to get himself calm again.

"Come on, Stiles, you've gotta stop," Scott was saying to him. "He's not worth it, and you know this asshole is getting off on this."

When he was aware of his surroundings once again, he noticed that while Scott had him, Danny was holding Jackson back. Jackson's eyes were glowing blue, and Stiles was desperately trying to get ahold of himself. When Stiles looked up at Jackson's face, he saw that there was blood running down from his nose and Jackson had the start of a black eye. Stiles was almost upset that it was going to heal.

When Stiles' gaze went over to Danny, who was holding Jackson back, he looked ashamed of his friend, like maybe Jackson had gone one step too far this time.

"You good?" Scott asked Stiles as he saw his friend calming down. Stiles nodded.

"Good," Scott said. "Let's get you outta here, yeah?"

Stiles took one good look at Jackson, wanting to say something, but knew that he would ever be able to outdo Jackson. So he let Scott lead him to the Jeep. He held out his hand silently, and without asking, Stiles knew right away that Scott wanted his keys.

"You shouldn't be driving, not when you're like this," Scott said as an explanation as they climbed into the vehicle. He started up the Jeep and started driving Stiles back to his apartment.

When Stiles was silent, Scott glanced over at him before his eyes settled back on the road, "Dude, you okay? I wish you would yell or scream, or even just rant my ear off, but I need to make sure you're okay. You're my brother, dude."

And it was true. While Derek had been Stiles' best friend for a really long time, Scott was more than just Stiles' friend. And when they were thirteen and their parents got married, they became brothers for real.

When Stiles was still silent, which was totally out of character for him, Scott said, "Dude, you know that Jackson was just saying that shit to get a rise out of you. And maybe he really thinks that, but…"

"It's not fair, Scotty," Stiles said, finally breaking his silence for the first time in five minutes. "Derek has been through hell. Look at everything that's happened to him, and his track record with significant others isn't that great, either. The way that Jackson treated him – it's just not fair, dude."

Scott nodded, "I know, Stiles. I get it, okay? But he's got you."

Stiles sighed. "I wish I could help him more than that, Scott," he said, feeling the defeat. "I feel so helpless when it comes to him, and I just want to take all this pain away."

Scott nodded, "I know, dude."

Scott dropped Stiles off at his apartment building, and when Stiles started to go into his apartment, he noticed it wasn't locked. Only a couple of people had keys to his apartment, including his dad, Melissa, Scott and Derek, and so it was either Derek or a burglar. Stiles pushed the door open carefully, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Derek sitting on the couch in his living room.

It quickly turned to worry, though, when Derek turned around and looked Stiles in the eye. Derek had been crying; his eyes were red and glossy, and there were actual tear tracks on his cheeks. Derek was trying to hide it, though, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, but it was too late. Stiles already saw.

"What's the matter?" Stiles asked him as he walked over to the couch and sat down beside Derek. "Did something happen?"

"I went over to the frat house today," Derek said, "to confront Jackson. To talk to him about getting a few things of mine back. And I saw you standing outside on the front step, talking to him."

"Oh no," Stiles practically whispered, because he knew what was coming next.

Derek licked his lips before his eyes met Stiles', "Do you think it's my fault? Is my family dead because of me?"

"No way, dude," Stiles said. He took Derek's hands in his and then said, "Listen to my heart if you think I'm lying. What happened to you was _not_ your fault. You were just a kid, Derek, and Kate played you too well. She manipulated you in a way that only a seasoned pro could."

"She didn't like me enough," Derek said softly. "I was never good enough for her. There were things that were said, things that were done, and I wanted so badly to be loved by someone that I just didn't see the warning signs. I just wanted to feel important, to feel loved by someone that wasn't family. After Paige…" Derek's voice trailed off, but Stiles knew what Derek didn't have to say.

"You wanted to feel like someone wanted you for you," Stiles said. Derek nodded.

"I thought she was okay with me being…me," Derek said. "There were things that were done back then and I thought they were normal. And then, when I started dating Jackson…" Derek's voice trailed off. He let out a choked sob. "God, I must be a special kind of stupid, huh? I let Jackson play me, and he did a better job than Kate ever did."

Stiles leaned over and pulled Derek into a hug. He hated seeing Derek in this much pain.

"Stiles?" Derek asked a moment later, after they'd broken apart. "Would you do me a…favor? As my friend, I mean?"

"Sure, Derek. I'd do anything for you. You know that."

"Make…" Derek looked down, biting his lip nervously. "Would you make love to me? I just…I need to feel like I matter to someone, that I'm more important than just a pawn in someone's game, and you –" But he cut himself off, not finishing the sentence. Stiles understood, though. He always did.

Stiles was a little taken aback at first. That was definitely _not_ what Stiles was expecting.

"Are you sure?" he asked him. "Because I don't want you to do something like this because you feel like you have to."

"If you don't want to, it's okay," Derek said. Then, finally, "Never mind, it was a stupid idea."

"It's fine, dude," Stiles said, "if that's what you really want. Just answer me this, though. Why do you feel like you need it?"

"Because nobody wants me, Stiles," Derek said. "Or, at least, it feels like nobody does. But when I'm with you…when I'm with you, I feel safe. I feel wanted."

Stiles nodded and leaned closer. "What's your opinion on kissing."

Derek blushed, and Stiles thought it was adorable.

"I've only kissed three people in my life, so I can't guarantee I'm any good at," he answered. "But I like it."

Stiles' breath hitched. Shit, was he actually going to do this?

"I'm going to kiss you now, then," Stiles said – because he apparently _was_ doing this – feeling like he should give Derek a warning, and then he leaned in. When their lips met, Stiles was cursing himself inwardly, because he knew now that he had an actual taste of Derek, he'd never be able to let him go. Derek tasted better than Stiles thought he would, a bit like peppermint and there was an underlying taste that could only be classified as pure _Derek_. Stiles pushed Derek back and straddled his hips, not breaking the kiss.

Stiles ground his hips down onto Derek's as he took control of the kiss. Whenever Stiles had imagined kissing Derek – and you'd better believe that he had imagined it many, _many_ times – he always thought that Derek would be rough and domineering, and that there would be a fight for dominance. But in reality, Derek handed it over without even thinking twice about it, like it wasn't a big deal, and that just turned Stiles on more.

Breaking the kiss, Stiles got up off Derek and took his hand, leading him to his bedroom. Hey, if they were going to do this, they were going to be comfortable.

Once in the bedroom, after Stiles had closed the door, he reached up, carefully pulling the t-shirt off Derek, and undressing him slowly. Derek did the same for Stiles, and this was every one of Stiles' daydreams coming to life. Even though Derek had been shirtless around Stiles many times before, when Stiles saw Derek completely naked, the only thing he could think was how utterly beautiful Derek was.

And Stiles wasn't sure if a dick could ever be classified as beautiful, but when he saw Derek's, he noticed three things right away. It was thick, uncut, and had a curve to it that Stiles bet would feel awesome inside him. And Stiles wanted Derek to fuck him so badly.

He knew this would probably be a one-time thing. Something to make Derek feel better, make him feel like not everyone used him, and even though Stiles wanted more out of Derek, he wasn't going to push. So he tried to put everything he felt into a kiss as he captured Derek's lips. Maybe Derek would understand.

Stiles led Derek over to the bed and pushed him down onto the mattress, and he rummaged in the top drawer of his nightstand for a bottle of lube and a condom. Pulling them out, he tossed them onto his pillow, and then leaned down to capture Derek's lips once more.

Neither of them really said anything as Stiles slicked up his fingers and reached back, opening himself up. Derek kissed him during, and once Stiles was three fingers in, scissoring them and putting just enough pressure on his prostate, he broke the kiss.

"I need you to fuck me," Stiles said. "Do you want me to use a condom or not?"

"Whatever you want," Derek said.

"I'm asking you, Derek," Stiles said softly. He didn't want Derek to think that he was the one calling all the shots here.

"With would probably be better," Derek said. "Easier clean up."

Stiles nodded, ripping open the foil packet with his teeth before rolling it on Derek's cock, slicking him up with probably more lube than necessary, but hey, too much was better than not enough. He then straddled Derek's hips, easing down on him slowly. Stiles loved the sensation of being filled like this – there was nothing that could compare to the feeling of it. It took a moment, but once he was finally seated on Derek's dick, with their hips together, Stiles paused, letting himself adjust to Derek's size, and then, _finally_ , started to slowly move.

And God, Stiles felt absolutely amazing around Derek, so hot and tight, and he could tell Derek was trying really hard not to snap his hips up, to make it more comfortable for him. Smiling, Stiles thanked him by leaning down and kissing him, slow and filthy, breath hitching as he started to ride him earnestly.

Before Stiles knew what was happening, Derek had flipped them so Stiles was on his back, smiling before leaning down to kiss him some more.

Derek kissed him as he thrust in and out a little faster, their lips never leaving one another's. Pretty soon, the only noise Stiles could hear was the slapping of skin together, and the occasional moan as they got close to the edge.

"So fucking close," Stiles said, breaking the kiss when Derek's hand snaked between the two of them, starting to stroke Stiles' cock, trying to keep up with their rhythm. _Oh, God._ It had Stiles at the edge fairly quickly.

"I'm gonna come, Derek."

"C'mon," Derek said, moving his hand faster and faster, "come for me, Stiles. I wanna feel you come on my cock." And that's when Stiles lost it, striping his stomach with white as Derek came as well.

Holy. Fuck.

"I need just a minute," Stiles panted, his heart feeling like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He took a couple of breaths, trying to get his breathing to return to normal, and that's when Derek did it. He withdrew from Stiles and leaned down, licking up the come on Stiles' stomach. Stiles could feel his cock trying to get hard again, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get it up this fast. It was still one of the sexiest things that Stiles himself had ever witnessed.

Derek tied the condom off and tossed it into the wastebasket that Stiles kept beside his bed.

After they were cleaned up and sated, Derek looked wary, like he was about ready to run out, but Stiles just said, "C'mon, dude, you need a snuggle, and I need a nap. We don't all have werewolf stamina like you do. Let's just lie here."

Derek was silent, but nodded.

The afterglow had always been Stiles' favorite part of sex. Just cuddling afterwards made him feel way more loved than the actual sex did, and he leaned over, giving Derek a slow, sweet kiss on the lips. Their kiss was soft, and full of love, and Stiles was trying really hard not to hope that this meant that Derek wanted more from Stiles as well. He wasn't going to let his heart break like that.

It wasn't long after Stiles had broken the kiss that they were fast asleep.

-x-

When Stiles woke up later that afternoon, he tried really hard not to cry when he noticed that Derek was gone. No note, no anything, but Stiles could find Derek anywhere in the apartment. So maybe he had something to do. Derek _was_ a pretty busy guy, with his job and his classes and his homework, so Stiles didn't want to make something out of this when there was probably nothing.

But then a day passed, and then two, and before Stiles knew it, it had been a week with no contact from Derek whatsoever. That's when Stiles knew. He knew that something had happened to their friendship, and Derek probably regretted what the two of them had done. He felt his heart break, but wasn't going to force anything on Derek – he deserved better than that. Derek deserved everything he wanted, and if he didn't want Stiles, then Stiles wouldn't force it. He just wanted his friend to be happy.

And maybe hoping that Derek didn't regret what had happened between the two of them was just wishful thinking, but Stiles just felt like maybe he deserved a little better than that. So he did what he did best; he drowned his heartbreak in whiskey.

He kept a little bit of it around, just for occasions like this. He wasn't a big drinker, never had been, but sometimes the only thing you could do was just get drunk. And Stiles wanted to forget.

When Scott showed up at Stiles' apartment about a week later, and saw Stiles drunk as fuck, he let out a sigh. "Dude, it's not even noon," he said. "Don't you think morning drinking is a little beneath you?"

"Hey man, it's five o'clock somewhere," Stiles said. Scott just rolled his eyes.

"Stiles, you need to talk to Derek," Scott said. He knew what had happened between the two of them, because Stiles pretty much poured his heart out to Scott when he was drunk and needed someone to talk to. "The two of you need to have a talk."

"He doesn't want any more from me, dude," Stiles said, taking another swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. "I just want Derek to be happy. I don't want him to do anything he doesn't want to do."

Scott sighed, but knew that when Stiles had his mind made up, nothing could deter him. So, instead, he just said, "Look, man, I know you don't want to force Derek into anything. I can respect that. But you at least need to talk to him, okay? Promise me that if he shows up here, wanting to talk, that you aren't going to turn him away."

"Of course I'm not," Stiles said. "I wouldn't do that."

"Okay," Scott said. He glanced at the clock on the wall before saying, "I'm taking a stab in the dark and saying you're not coming to class?"

"Not today, Scotty," Stiles said. "I'm too drunk."

Scott nodded. "I'll take notes for you, dude."

"Thanks, man," Stiles said. "I love you, bro."

"Get some sleep, Stiles," Scott said. "I'll check on you later to make sure you're still alive."

After Scott had left, Stiles decided to crawl onto the couch and take a nap. Just a short one, he had decided, and then he'll get up and deal with the real world.

When he woke up later that afternoon, he had the feeling of being watched. He didn't get that feeling very often, but it was so bad that it made him jump up. He was having the world's worst hangover, his head practically throbbing, and the cotton mouth was going to drive him crazy. When he did get up, he was sitting face to face with Derek.

"Hey," Derek said quietly. He watched Stiles for a good moment before saying, "My sisters and cousin threatened to kill me if I didn't come talk to you. They said I was brooding."

"You _are_ pretty good at that," Stiles said. "Let me get a drink, and then we can talk."

"Not alcohol, Stiles," Derek said. "You smell like a brewery."

"Water it is, then," Stiles said, getting up to grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He grabbed an extra one and offered it to Derek. Derek took it, with a mumbled, "Thanks."

"So, dude, we should probably talk about what happened between the two of us," Stiles said, sitting beside Derek. "I mean, if you want."

"I ran," Derek said. "I got scared and ran."

"Why'd you get scared/" Stiles asked softly, taking a swig of his water. "Did I do something wrong?"

Derek shook his head, "No. It's the way you looked at me, the way you kissed me…Stiles, nobody's ever done that before."

Taking a deep breath, Stiles decided to go for broke. "It's because I love you, Der. I mean, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for a really long fucking time."

Stiles could easily call the look that was on Derek's face _startled_. It was like Derek couldn't believe that Stiles had just said that.

"How long?" Derek asked finally, when he'd gotten his voice back.

"Over ten years. Since I was thirteen."

"That long?" Derek asked. "Why had you never said anything before?"

"I'm not your type," Stiles said. I saw the people that you liked, the people that you dated. Unlike them, I'm not smart, or beautiful, or anything like that. I'm just me. Just nerdy, geeky Stiles Stilinski."

"Stiles, you are such an idiot," Derek said, even though there wasn't any venom behind his words. He said them almost fondly. "I'm in love with you, too. Always have been. I just thought –"

But Stiles jumped forward before he could finish, giving Derek a soft kiss on his lips. "Good. I'm so fucking glad," he said. "I love you so fucking much, dude."

Derek just grinned, leaning in to kiss Stiles one more time.


End file.
